i, the inhumane heartless creature, not.it shitlessly scares me, how last night happened and i couldnt even cry nor feel anything significant; and my only worry - though vast but nothing compares to that of the many other issues i have on hand, is my schoolwork.
it scares me that i couldnt feel sadness nor regret nor concern. it scares me that puffing away on the indon heavy fag doesnt even make me cough. it scares me that for once, i really truly have no care for what people thinks about me - that for once it is not cos i want to hold that principle of never answering to anyone else but myself; but cos i simply couldnt. this emptiness really scares me.
but most importantly, i felt i should stop feeling sorry for myself, the things i did, and caused; and focus on areas like my schoolwork where the result will be more satisfying and
concrete.
and so, i asked.
verarara.
do u think i'm really inhumanely heartless?
fi
u r not,u r strong
fi
i was,am,and will always be in wonder of ur emotional strength
fi
it is something i must emulate,to be worthy
fi
but it pains that im easily wrecked,all the false presumtions of me being tough
verarara.
i really love it that you know me so well, that you read me so well. i mean, despite me being an open book, a lot couldnt see the person i am. but you can.
and it really amazes me. how when i try so hard to have people to understand me, to know me; they might or might not still. but the one time i didnt try at all, he still understands me.
this is what drew me to him. not fancy wordsplay nor sweet-loving time showered on me, but
'tht we touch each other beyond physical means'; just simply by talking.
that we are so different - him so closed-up on his thoughts and feelings to others because he finds strengths in securely hiding his weaknesses, and me so open and loud about everything because i find strength in the ability of laughing at my weaknesses. yet so similar - him opening up to only me because i'm the only one who can open him, and my ability to tell him about the darker, deeper stuff that i have slyly kept despite being so open.
Oh-oh, yes we're the great pretenders.Pretending that I'm doing wellMy need is such I pretend too muchI'm lonely but no one can tellOh-oh, yes we're the great pretendersJust laughin' and gay like a clownI seem to be what I'm not, you seeI'm wearing my heart like a crownbut still, every now and then, i still feel the ache of throwing away the possibility of a comfortably easy and bright future; and that of hurting someone i do love, so horridly.